fluorescent lights

Confession: every time I type the word fluorescent I get the squiggly red line because I cannot for the life of me spell it correctly. Honestly though I am okay with that. It is not a word I feel like I need in my vocabulary. I would like to have a conversation with the person who decided to use fluorescent lights in office buildings. I believe that it might be the cause of so many people being unhappy at work. Why not just put sky lights in the office so that people can have a shot at seeing the sun every once in awhile, huh? I mean seriously. In my office I have these teeny tiny windows that are like 10 feet off the ground so even adjusting the blinds is not happening. Maybe I should get one of those long cane-like poles with the grabber on the end so that I can reach... or maybe the person who built this office should have really thought this through! Instead they put windows way too high, that barely let any light in anyway and two massive fluorescent (squiggly line again) lights in the ceiling. Yesterday these lights really got to me. I was truly just fowl at work. And since I don't want to blame the lack of sleep the night before, I decided to blame the lights. At about 1pm I was in serious need of more caffeine and just over the day. Unfortunate because the real part of my day happens at like 2:30 so I needed a drastic attitude adjustment. I left work, not intending to really change the mood, but drove with my windows down, blaring country music, as a last ditch effort to turn it around. As I pulled into Sonic, I got a heytell from one of my best friends asking if I thought she should get a Sonic drink since she was having a rough day. Great minds think alike - I'm sure she has fluorescent lights hovering over her all day too. Of course I told her that she absolutely should go to Sonic, which I'm sure she probably expected. Typically I get heytell questions from her when she already knows my answer and just wants someone to approve of the decision (should I get another cup of coffee? always yes. is it time for dr pepper? absolutely. is ice cream in the plan for tonight? it is now! do you think i should buy a new dress? pair of shoes? jewelry? text me a pic but 9 times out of 10, affirmative.) Somehow just hearing from her made my cold, fierce, dont-talk-to-me-I-want-to-go-back-to-bed self soften a little. Then the guy at Sonic asked if I was moving because literally I have a car packed full of stuff. I giggled - nope this is just how my car looks on a normal Wednesday. He was embarrassed and so was I - just a little. But I laughed and then the shell broke.
So with my vanilla dr pepper in hand, Taylor Swift on the radio, windows down and 70 degree weather, I drove. And let myself forget about the fluorescent lights and emails and phone calls. It was sort of like hitting reset on the whole day. Saying, this morning was not really who I want to be so let's start over - retry. Sometimes I let myself sit in the rut and sometimes I don't under any circumstance want to be talked out of my fowl mood, but sometimes I'll let it fizzle out and sometimes I'll decide to allow a circumstance to adjust the frame of mind and honestly - that's a decision I never regret.

grace has a name

This song has been running through my head all morning... I don't know who sings it so I am not sure who the credit goes to but here are the words I can remember...
You are the Light, Bethlehem's Son, Hope of the World, The Glorious One.
The Savior to all is with us tonight. You are the Light.
Now the whole world will not be the same cause Love has come down and Grace has a name.
The name of the child is Jesus Christ. You are the Light.

Today is the 4th anniversary of the day my best friend's mother went to meet the Savior of the world. Still I have a hard time believing that this actually happened and will forever be a part of the life story of one of the most incredible women I know. Tricia Bradley was one of the kindest, most compassionate, caring, hilarious people and all who knew her were blessed because of her hopeful nature. She used to pull through the drive through at Wendy's just because she was in the mood for some french fries and if she knew I would be hanging out at her house (as I did most afternoons my senior year), she would share some with me - a woman after my own heart! Her laugh filled the kitchen and living room at the Bradley house and she warmly greeted everyone that came through the door. She actually knew the friends of her kids - not like our names, but who we were and what we were all about. She faithfully attended prayer groups to seek wisdom for parenting and protection for her kids. She encouraged everyone she knew to pursue a deeper faith and understanding of the One True God and gave advice not only when asked but also when needed (rarely did the two happen at the same time). She taught me how to ice a cake when her daughter and I insisted on baking cakes in the shapes of letters for our friend's birthdays. She walked through pain beautifully, hopeful and confident in the truth she treasured. She sent care packages to college for Amanda (and luckily taught her to share) and when I asked, she would talk to me on the phone, even though really she had called to talk to her daughter. She was always busy, but still always had time for long talks or shopping trips. Soon after she went home, I remember hoping that time would just stand still - that if only we could stay close to the actual date of her goodbye to earth, we would never forget who she was or what she wanted so badly to teach us. But as always, time went on. People would say that time would heal a lot and maybe it has, but I would hate to give time too much credit. The thing is that there is no way I would be who I am or have made it this far without the Lord's protection and provision in my life and the life of my friend's. My dear friend, who has courageously taken steps in this journey that she was called to, has in many ways become like the woman who raised her. She was given her eyes and smile and hints of her voice, but the older we get, the more I can see her mom's caring heart and compassionate spirit in the way Amanda loves the people around her. It is an incredible gift that only the Lord could have given. So today I will remember Mama Bradley and her unique ability to make me feel welcome and valued, but I will also remember that I have seen and experienced tangible grace. The credit for the major steps that have been taken in my life and my friend's can only go to the Hope of the World. I am thankful today that Grace has a name and that I am able to walk in communion with Him daily.

a little late but still thankful

Somehow December crept up on me. I knew it was coming and had braced myself for this season, but still I am in awe that today is December 3rd. I laid in bed last night regretting not writing a Thanksgiving blog over the long break that I had. There were several moments that if I could have frozen them, taken a picture and posted it, I would have because they were so beautiful. And I wanted to share them with the world. Holidays are definitely different as an adult- some things sweeter and some more obviously harsh than I ever knew they would be. Thankfully, time with my sisters has grown more and more precious. This past break we got a lot of time together - more than most breaks - and we know it won't happen this way every time so even in the moment we reminded ourselves to be incredibly thankful. There are times when we look back on times together and somehow the memory is sweeter than the time actually was. However, this time, that is not the case. We were aware in the moment of how precious this time together really was. Someone would pause mid conversation, just to take in the laughter and lighthearted voices, as we played Rummikub or Phase 10 and would say, almost at a whisper we are so blessed. and, truly, we are. There is much to be thankful for so even though I missed the golden opportunity to publicly declare my Thanksgiving list, I still think it's important so I am going to claim a "better late than never" on this one and just go for it...
1. My family, who demonstrates grace and patience to me daily and are truly beautiful. We're not perfect, but I wouldn't want to be a part of any other mess.
2. Amanda, who knows my secrets and loves me anyway - and for her husband, Will, who sacrifices time with the most precious one in his life so that my best friend and I can still have time together.
3. My roommates, who have to endure my verbal unloading of the struggles throughout my day and who willingly share in celebrations and pain.
4. This current bizarre stage of life - because even though I wonder sometimes how long I will feel like I'm in transition (maybe all of life is just that...), I have experienced grace and a deeper faith because of it.
5. Baby Caleb, who even in his mother's womb has already reminded me several times of the faithfulness that God promises. I am overwhelmed with joy as I hope for the day I get to meet him.
6. Sounds and smells of Thanksgiving Day, that my wonderful hostess of a Mama allows to flow through the halls and rooms of her house each year - rejoicing, weeping, fighting, laughing - scents of home-cooked foods and apple pies, as the women rush around preparing dishes while my dad bravely carves the turkey.
7. Late nights and a job that gives me holiday breaks so that I can enjoy them. Sometimes my favorite conversations occur over a simple card game, a dr. pepper and you've got mail (usually beginning at midnight) with one of my favorite people.
8. Coffee. There is something so soothing about holding a warm mug and letting yourself ease into the day while sitting at a familiar kitchen table, with the people you love most.
9. Dancing, with my sisters, cousins, their kids or friends, to Taylor Swift's new album and loving the freedom to laugh and enjoy each other.
10. Beauty - whether it's in people, things, nature, actions, voices, or sights, it reminds me that the God of The Universe sees me. He fought a battle for me once before and he will again. Beauty gives me hope that there is something so much greater to look forward to.

So even though Thanksgiving has passed, don't forget the things you had reminded yourself  to be thankful for. Don't forget the many reasons you have to celebrate. And when you do forget, or when the fluorescent lights in your office or school are blocking the memory, step outside, close your eyes and stand in the sunshine. Then slowly allow yourself to sink back in to the mindset that you don't deserve even this moment, but you've been given a gift.
And then, remind yourself to be thankful.

Sometimes my job is really, really hard. Sometimes it is not my favorite place to be. But sometimes I get to interact with little five-year-olds who have a hilarious perspective on life and that makes things a little bit better. Brace yourself for this story because it is one of my favorites so far...
Yesterday I was visiting the school where my sister used to be the supervisor. Because my sister is pregnant, Friday was her last day with these kiddos and this totally threw them for a loop! One of her precious little ones (he would have easily landed a role in The Little Rascals) came up and sat down across from me at the picnic table.
This was our conversation (Note: I have changed the name):

Johnny: "Miss Katie? Sometimes Ms Ali is here and sometimes she's not."
Me: (giggling of course) "You're right, Johnny, but remember last Friday was Ms Ali's last day so she won't be coming back anymore."
Johnny: "WHAT?!?!"
Me: "Remember? You told her goodbye on Friday - She has to go have her baby!"
Johnny: (concerned) "You mean they're going to take him out?!?!?!"
Me: (still giggling) "Yes they have to! He can't stay in her stomach forever..."
Johnny: (looooooonnnnnggg sigh) "Oh jeez"

Obviously this conversation was too good to just end there so I prodded a little more...

Me: "Hey Johnny- Did Ms Ali ever tell you what they were going to name him?"
Johnny: (exasperated) "She gets to name him???"
Me: "Yes well somebody has to...."
Johnny: "Ummmm she never told me..."
Me: "Well they're going to name him Caleb"
(long pause, clearly deep in thought)
Johnny: "But that sounds like a girls name!"
(now I'm the one doing the thinking...)
Me: (giggling again) "No no no Kayla is a girls name. Ca-lub is a boys name"
Johnny: "Hmmm Well I dont think that's his name"
Me: "Well what do you think his name should be?"
Johnny: (HUGE GRIN) "Johnny!"

And with that he jumped up and scurried off and I of course sat there just laughing until few tears fell. He is by far one of the cutest things I have ever seen.

a beautiful day

This weekend was completely beautiful. I had been anticipating and planning for months - phone calls, emails, crafts, notes, lists, shopping. So much planning that I almost forgot what I was planning for. We worked all day Saturday - I would imagine something and Abby would create it, as if she was in my head or could see the same end product that I could see. It just worked, like a rhythmic machine - no glitches, no speedbumps, just a gentle soothing beat as we marched throughout the day. It was simple, but it took a lot of work to make it that way. There was a flow, but it took strategic design to create it. On Sunday, we added finishing touches and waited. And then, people came. The poured in the door and poured out love and support and said "we'll be here with you!" And Ali was blessed. Which was the whole point anyway. Her new baby boy will be coming in December and everything I am loves the tradition of throwing a shower to help get the family ready. A shower to say that you're not alone, that your whole world will be turned upside down, but we want to help you get through it- we want to walk alongside you and carry you when you cannot bear another step. And that's what it was - an outpouring of love and blessings and gifts for a growing family.
We had a sketched tree in a frame so that people could put their thumb print and write their name. This will hang in the new nursery...There were branches in vases that people could come in and write a blessings for the baby on...A clothesline hung on the wall with precious baby clothes and a homemade sign, painted by Abby...His name was painted on pumpkins and sitting on the mantle, with baby pictures of Ali and Danny...

Baby blocks, pumpkins, flowers, fall leaves and candles were scattered around the room sitting on tables and shelves and creating an atmosphere of warmth and calm.
People filled the room right at 2:00 and the chatter began - 60 women in a house, joyfully laughing at the past and looking forward to the future; fervently catching up on job status, kids, church life, recent events; and paying close attention for when Ali would get to their well thought out gift. Ali laughed easily and truly was glowing the whole day, utterly overwhelmed by the generosity and affection of the women we hold so close. She opened each gift and the room ooohed and ahhhed over the tiny socks, jersey onesie, hand-made blanket, monogrammed bibs, and perfect belongings. A dear friend prayed towards the end for this new life, that he would grow in faithfulness and trust in the Lord, that he would know how great his parents are, that they would have the patience needed and the support of friends, that they wouldn't be too hard on themselves, but would find grace. Tears were shed and joy in its finest form floated through the air.
The women lingered, drinking coffee and eating cupcakes and continuing to laugh. And I didn't want it to end. But at some point people began to clear and the space began to feel big again, still full but more open. With a heart overflowing, we said goodbyes and made plans to see each other soon. We hugged and took pictures and tried to hold on to this unforgettable day. Once just the seven of us were left, we went back through to truly get a good look at the tiny clothes and the baby gear and only then did it set in.

Caleb is coming.

Oh how beautiful the group of people who cannot wait to meet him.

and the Oscar goes to...

Growing up we acted like we were the same age. I was only 18 months older so virtually every stage of life was stepped into together. She is my only little sister and for that I am so thankful. We are best friends and we understand each other most of the time. We used to play invisible uno together and enjoyed calling each other to invite the other over for a sleepover (literally we used the phone in my mom's office and the home phone and would call to see if the other one wanted to come spend the night - hysterical laughter always ensued because let's be honest we are funny). We would make up plays and dances and songs (one major hit as I recall, right Ke?).
But over the years, differences emerged. I found a nitch for organization and communication and this little one found a free spirit and stage lights. After years of practicing and performing, today the baby is going to perform in her first play as a paid actress. We are ecstatic. And of course we are acting like we're going to the Oscar's - seems there is a dramatic flare in this whole family! Roll out the red carpet because this is the Keila Christine Lorenc. She will play the lead role and I know she will blow me away, as is usual for one of her plays. She can be funny, serious, emotional, dramatic, lighthearted, or just about anything else. And she is believable. The minute she steps onto the stage something happens to her - it's like I forget she's my sister and start believing she is someone entirely different. It is thrilling. The gift of live theater is often overlooked, but I am lucky - I have a sister who is passionate about it, who never lets me forget to respect the theater, and who has the rare ability to listen, understand and interpret. Someday we'll be sitting among the stars, listening as a clip from her most recent success is played and then the presenter will say those words we all know so well... but the thing is, whether she wins or not doesn't matter. Because I will know that she has poured her heart and soul into this. I will know that she cried and lost sleep and loved every second. And I will know, even if we never get there, that this girl has got it. She found courage and she is out there doing it.

So, today I am the proudest big sister around (well we'll say tied for proudest sister, with two others who will also be front and center).

Break a leg, dear one. I cannot wait to see you step onto the stage tonight.

well crap

it's official.
There is absolutely no way I am ever going to be taken seriously in a store like Home Depot or Lowe's.
This used to upset me. I mean no matter what I go in there for, I always get eyed like I shouldn't be there or I don't belong. As if a girl wearing a nice blouse, earrings and wedges can't hold a hammer. I mean come on what is this 1950???

But now I sort of understand where they are coming from and today I think I pretty much sealed the deal. The painted nails and long blonde hair were already grouping me into a certain category, but then I just had to approach the customer service desk, asking about my uncle, who my mom had told me worked at Home Depot. You see I'm working on a project for a baby shower I'm throwing and needed a few things. My uncle, whose expertise is lumber, was supposed to be my go to man for getting this project finished in a timely (and inexpensive!) manner. The burly customer service men were skeptical before I even started speaking. Apparently my babbling about the baby shower and my uncle who works there were not impressive in the least. After I finished my way too long explanation for why I was ever so confidently standing in front of their "real" customers, they looked at each other, stroked their beards and said they had never heard of him. Well there you go. I asked if maybe they hadn't met him since the store is quite large and they agreed that it might be a possibility (progress!). So I boldly asked if they would mind paging him. After a few eye rolls and half sympathetic glances - I'm sure they were thinking this poor girl is so lost - they called for him over the loud speaker and muttered we'll see what happens .... and then we waited.
and waited.
and waited.
and waited. And he didn't come and they still stared at me, thinking I have completely lost my mind.So then my confidence began to waiver. I frantically texted my mother, who was clearly at fault for this situation I found myself in. Her text back said one word and one word only: Lowes. 
c
r
a
p
So I looked around one last time and said "Well he must be on his lunch break - I'll just catch him later!" and with that, I turned and briskly walked out of the store making eye contact with no one and holding my redder by the second face as high as possible.
Guess I'm not meant to shop at Home Depot. I did go across the street to Lowe's to see if he might possibly be there. After a similar (more sympathetic this time) conversation with the customer service desk, we found out that my uncle was in fact on his lunch break. So there you have it: the disheartening truth that I do not belong in a hardware store. Maybe I'm okay with it or maybe someday I'll go back to Home Depot armed with a hammer and teach those customer service reps a lesson or two. Although if I try that and miss I dont think I'll recover. So maybe I'll just know in my heart that I can use a hammer and a wrench if I have to. I have unscrewed a doorknob or two and my mother and I even disassembled and then reassembled a fan one time. Sure we almost got electrocuted and maybe it makes noise when it goes around and sometimes the blades look like they might fly off but... but...

oh forget it

finding strength

well for work I had to take a strength finder test. it was probably one of the worst experiences of my work life and led to a minor meltdown in my office. now - meltdowns in general are not that rare for me but a meltdown at work, followed by a complete come apart? now that is not something to brag about. however, it is something to address. so here i am (bravely) confronting it:

Dear Meltdown,
You are not invited to my workplace any longer. I'm not sure how the invitation ended up in your mailbox originally, although I have my theories. I will not allow you to just waltz into my office like you own the place, set up camp and then completely unravel as you did yesterday. No thank you. Although, I do realize you had good reason. The strength finder test is completely overwhelming and no matter where I decided to embark on that journey, I'm sure you would have accompanied me there. However, please do your best to stay away from my office. I prefer for you to visit me in my car if you must come by. At least there I am relatively protected and Little Dorie doesn't mind seeing you every once in awhile. I also have my suspicions that it was not the strengths that invited you nor the book that beckoned. It wasn't the authors and most certainly it wasn't myself. So who would I guess? Well correct me if I'm wrong, but I bet that my little not-so-great friend Perfectionism set up your welcome mat. I will have to address that "friend" later, but I wanted to make sure that I was clear with you first: The office is off limits.

Thank you for your consideration and respect.
I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon!
Katie


there. that otta do it.

One Man, Five Times a Hero

Many people pitty him. And maybe they should. He does have four daughters and no sons. He is without a doubt out-numbered and has been for the better part of his life. A sports fanatic, who couldn't get any of his four daughters seriously interested in golf, tennis, basketball, or any sport he knew well. We grew up as dancers, cheerleaders, cross country runners, actresses, majoring in elementary education, communication, Spanish and theater. None of us quite walked down the paths he knew so well - basketball and business, but he didn't resent that. He didn't wish he had boys (at least he never let on that he did). He just learned what we loved and helped us love it more. He became the number one hero in five women's lives and is the spitting image of soft protection and strong comfort. Boys tend to fear him, which I happen to love. To us he just a big softy, but to them he is strong and silent, intimidating would be putting it lightly. He is the first one in the house up on Saturday morning and he runs errands for the day before any of us even start thinking about moving. By the time we get up, the coffee is ready and he sits with his back against the window in the kitchen, reading the newspaper and waiting for someone to share his findings with. He made up songs and stories when we were little and entertained us by dancing with the vacuum cleaner doll, coordinating his Halloween costumes with ours, changing song lyrics to make them applicable to the moment, laughing when we were funny, and helping with any and all school activities, most importantly stomping on hundreds of cans for recycling campaigns. I still have a postcard he wrote me while on a business trip when I was not even a year old yet. He taught five girls how to ride their bikes, play putt putt, and hit a soft ball. He learned the name of every motion and skill in cheerleading and would frequently comment on the arabesque or toe touch someone had done. I remember specifically after one game, he told me that my hurkey looked so pretty- I thought I might cry. He knew, loved, cared, and supported. He took pictures at prom and always remembered to tell us we looked beautiful. He answers the phone when I call and puts up with my ridiculous questions about budgeting, car insurance, my job, what I'm going to do with my life. He still wonders what he is going to be when he grows up. He listens to songs that I like and will text me when they're on the radio. Him and my mama sponsored several gas tanks between here and Abilene and lovingly paid for my education and one of the best experiences of my life. He took us on beautiful family vacations and drove the whole way to Florida, while we played gameboys or watched movies. He loves my mom - so much it makes me want to cry. They are a beautiful picture. He is my beloved Dad. A man who has clearly demonstrated the picture of what being a father means and should look like. I could play the "my dad is better than your dad" game all day long. And although I am confident I would destroy you, I would rather just take today to celebrate mine and all wonderful Dads. Your daughters need you. They need to know that you believe in them and that you trust them. They need to know that you will protect them from anything that comes along and they need to know that you will sometimes let them walk out on the limb to see how steady they are. My dad has had to catch me several times and I am confident that he will even more in the future. I know where I stand with him and I know I can ask him anything. I know he'll be there for me, but he taught me boundaries so that I know when to ask and when to figure it out on my own. Someday I'll get to meet my Heavenly Father face to face, but in the meantime, I am so thankful for an earthly one who will stand up and fight for me - it makes the ache of waiting for the real thing a little more dull.
Happy Birthday, Hero of my Heart. I am blessed to get to celebrate you today.

Life as of Late

Well I have been out of the game for awhile now. It seems I lost touch of what to blog about and somehow couldn't get inspired. I have a new job now. It is a big job and everyday I am asking the Lord for guidance on what to do and where it's taking me. I have had several situations already in the last six weeks that I was not sure how to handle. And even now, I wonder if I did the right thing. But in a job like this, there is very little room to turn back. You make decisions and move forward. Part of me loves that and part of me wants to keep mulling over whatever major thing happened in the day. I have slept less than what I would prefer and my stress level is at an all time high, but I still really enjoy what I'm doing. It's all for the greater purpose of a child's education and development  We tell our staff all of the time that we are helping children become who they are going to be - and that makes all of the other things seem smaller somehow... Plus I have had some funny stories along the way...
First there was the little girl who was so shocked and astonished that I used to be a cheerleader. To her it was as if she was in the presence of someone famous, like Miss America. She made me stay where I was and ran to get the rest of her friends, who of course didn't believe her so they came to ask for themselves. Celebrity status was not half bad...
At another school a little boy came and sat down by me to tell me about how many crazy stories he had because of things he had seen in his long 5 years of life. I knew right away that this would be good so I got out a piece of paper and began to draw as he spoke. One time he got a giant keychain that said his name on it at a pier so I drew a giant keychain and a pier. On this same pier, he saw a man balancing a bicycle wheel on his head, so I drew that. Eventually, this little one caught on to the fact that his words were becoming pictures on my page so he would say something and then ever so subtly look down and over onto my paper to see it appear. It was priceless. He was mesmerized and carried on for half an hour about juggling torches and stars flying in the sky and what he wanted to be when he grew up (he wants to work on a pier).
There is another tiny Kindergartner, who always seems to have dirt on his shirt and food on his face. He still has little puffy hands and doesn't stand more than two and a half feet off the ground. He was in a lot of trouble when I got to the school so I asked him what had happened. He went on for fifteen minutes about the whole situation where a kid had taken a ball away from him and ended with "so I pushed him on the ground, shoved his face in the wood-chips and pounded on him for awhile" I almost died. It was all of my strength not to laugh hysterically.
A sweet, very quiet 2nd grader was playing with dolls when I sat down to accessorize them with her. She was gathering them out of the bin and picking out outfits for each one, complete with matching purses and shoes. When all of a sudden she pulled one doll out who had obviously been through some sort of life crisis - she had a buzz hair cut and was missing one leg and half an arm. The 2nd grader looked at the doll, then looked at me and said, "Man, she's having a rough day"

My job is crazy and I feel like I am all over the place, but the moments when I get to sit down and listen to a kids are priceless. More stories to come... Until then, take a minute and let a kid just talk to you. They're hysterical. And they have a lot of valuable things to say :)

new little life

A new little life was brought into the world this week. Little Helena Elizabeth. She is beautiful. She already has a protective big sister and enough "aunts" to fight off anyone. She is loved. We got the phone call at midnight Tuesday night that it wouldn't be long. My family immediately mobilized the troops and handed out assignments. My mom was to take new mom to the hospital, with my dad driving (they are good at staying calm in chaos). My younger sister and I were stationed at this growing family's house spending the night with their two year old who was already down for the night. The husband was coming straight from work to meet them at the hospital and everyone else was on standby. Sister (or fishy as her older sister has lovingly called her for months), came into this world at around 8AM. She only didn't have a name for a minute which if you think about it is pretty good- I mean there is a lot of pressure that goes into that... That day, when I asked her big sister what happened (besides telling me that the pool "robot" sprayed her), she happily told me that her mom had a baby and that she became a big sister. Already the beautiful kind of pride shown in her eyes as she continued to explain to me the sounds her sister made (she was crying), the way her sister felt (she was soft), and what her sister was doing (taking a bath). She announced that it was her sister's Boofday (birthday) and continued to talk about the crying (even making the actual sound). As she spoke, I saw hints of the uncertainty we all knew would be there. In her two-year-old mind she was turning over thoughts of sharing mom and dad, sharing toys, sharing time... sharing life, not that she can conceptualize this yet, but the process has begun. It starts so young and a child can either grow bitter toward a younger sibling or grow in love for them - on their team and supporting them - or I suppose they could be indifferent. I am not a parent and cannot speak for how this is done, but can attest to the fact that it was done for me. Isn't it interesting how our automatic reaction is "Mine!"? I dont think anyone teaches a child that and yet, it is what we do. I am praying for this big sister that "Mine!" will be taken out of her vocabulary and that she will learn early on the beauty in sharing everything with this baby who could one day be her best friend: delighting over learning to ride a bike, getting frustrated over falling, crying over relationships, celebrating over a batch of cookies, coping over a pint of icecream, laughing over nail polish and magazines, whispering over coffee, weeping over failure, rejoicing over small things and loving over mistakes- possibly the girl that will stand by her on the biggest days of her life and a girl who will know her better than anyone, if they allow it. Sisters can be such a gift. What a blessing to get to watch this precious family grow...

oh life

Life is such a funny thing... constant transition. School begins in the fall and ends in the spring and even though I am not technically apart of the school system anymore, it has caused me to think: maybe that's the only normal part about life - the transition. We've been doing it since we were young but somehow it still feels unnatural. It's safer to just stay where we are, but sometimes there's a limb just a few steps away, waiting for us to take a step out. I can remember being a young girl and completely stressed out about moving from 5th grade to middle school. In my tiny head, nothing could be better than elementary school. How silly that I felt the same way leaving middle school and high school and the worst yet, leaving college. And still change is happening all around me. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it. The good news is that if you're in a rough situation or stage of life, you can rest in the fact that life is constantly changing, but if you are somewhere you love, you must tell yourself to remember that you cannot hold onto that moment forever and to truly live in it because it will be over at some point. It is temporary. Shauna Niequist, author of Cold Tangerines (a book I would highly recommend) quoted a friend of hers saying that on this journey, "everything is interim" (p.206) ... hmmm everything is interim. I think I agree with her. Each path is somehow leading to another path and another and another and another until we leave this earth. Students continue to progress from one grade to the next, seasons bring different moods and emotions to the surface, people get promotions or decide to move or get married or stay home to start a family, goals and dreams develop and adapt, and frequently it is all uncontrollable - like getting older- it is just happening. Life changes as fast as the time it takes to rearrange a bedroom or change your nail polish from hot pink to sea foam green. It is constantly moving, shifting, turning in unexpected ways. Friends come and go, some sticking, but most flowing - and that's how it's supposed to be. We need different people in our lives for different seasons... Is it hard? Absolutely. Is it necessary? Absolutely. We wouldn't be the people we are had our lives stayed the same for years. Sara Groves sings a song called Painting Pictures of Egypt - the chorus is what I'm talking about:
I've been painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacked,
the future seemed so hard and I wanna go back.
But the places that used to fit me, cannot hold the things I've learned.
Those roads were closed off to me, when my back was turned.

The past that we remember is not always accurate, which is such a beautiful thing - And the future is scary - transitions around every corner. But we can't go back, because now we are older and have grown wiser. And now those places where we belonged are too small. We have outgrown them. And it is a beautiful thing. Without a doubt, the biggest comfort to me in all of this is serving a God who is big on plans. He sees the turns ahead and just asks me to trust who I know Him to be. Oh for the grace to do just that. Anything can happen. Life is scary. Transition is uncomfortable. But God is good. Thank goodness.

Book: Niequist, Shana. Cold Tangerines. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007.
Song: Groves, Sara. Painting Pictures of Egypt.

Saturday Morning

Saturday morning at the Lorenc house is always pretty much the same. Minutes pass slowly as we sit around the kitchen table sipping on coffee and talking about 85 different things at one time. Currently the man of this house is editing a grocery list that his wife made because he is the one shopping and wants to make sure he knows exactly what each item is - how many times over the course of the last 30 years has this exact scenario taken place?
You can always tell when the caffeine has settled in and, having no food or protein to balance it, our hands start shaking and words start flying faster and with more intensity and more and more topics land on the table: Pinterest, recipes, Facebook, insecurity, music, the Rangers, family, traveling, the new baby, plans for the weekend, golf (mostly only one person talks about golf), movies, church, more recipes, work, annoyances, crafts, shopping, friends, family again and of course the new baby.
It is crazy, but I love it. We are a host family so our weekend plans involve people coming in and out and planning meals and snacks for the masses and we love it. As each of us breaks away one at a time to shower or get ready for the next activity, the kitchen becomes quiet again, but only temporarily. Later in the day when voices start filling the house this will all repeat itself - in the afternoon the coffee will turn to soda and at night it will turn to wine. But what stays consistent is a family of talking and laughter and planning. And we love it.

We are who we are.

Over the years, "The Lorenc girls" has sort of become a catch phrase. Growing up we were well known at church, in the youth group, extended family, at school, etc. We were in the 'good girl' category with the grand assumption (and lie) that we had it together and never did anything wrong. Well, contrary to popular belief, we definitely have our issues. We dont always agree, we dont always do the right thing, and we definitely dont always have it together. However, sometimes, when we're all in the same place, something magic happens. Abby Jane recently used the word magic to define my mother. She's right- we definitely get this from Mama. It's not the mystical kind but the real kind, that is only possible by the grace and love of a Father who wants his children to see him. And this weekend it happened. The oldest sister, full of wisdom and confidence and assurance in things hoped for, came into town. It was a last minute choice but one that definitely hit the spot. The next one down, sweeter and gentler than anyone I've ever known, who laughs easily and trusts fully, lives just north of the home we grew up in, with a faithful and loving husband who has been an incredible addition to our unit. And the baby of our sisterhood, created to worship and to direct people back to the one true God (a task she has grown into quite well), is currently in transition, hybernating in the safest place I can imagine, protected by a fiercely loving mother and father who believe fully in her ability and talent. So there we all were. A sweet moment frozen in time - laughter filling the halls of a house that has been full for years, tears streaming over life and love and where we are going from here, and conversations floating in and out of rooms about what we have learned and how we know God more now than we did the last time we were together. This weekend the moment lingered even longer, as we all decided to take a vacation day and reconnect on Monday. I cannot think of a better way to spend a day off than by listening and receiving a refill of hope, faith, trust, love and peace that somehow evades our lives when we forget who we are. That happens to me sometimes. I just forget. It's why I need community in my life to remind me that regardless of what I do, who I am stays consistent - and is much more important. This weekend they reminded me of the hope I have - and assured me that if I dont have it, they will carry it for me. They reminded me that I was created for a purpose and that God has not forgotten me. They reminded me that prayer and communion with the living God is what I'm lacking and what I'm needing. They reminded me that I am not what I do, but I belong to I AM and that's what defines me.

That's what the Lorenc girls are to me. Family - The best kind of family. My life would be less full without them and I know that when I forget who I am, the reminder is just a phone call away. They have shaped me, They know me and love me anyway.

We are not perfect. We can be difficult to be around and we dont always see straight, but when we're together, sometimes it's magic.

Rude Awakening

Well it happened. I should have known it was coming. I dealt with this same situation twice last week, though not to this severity, but still it surprised me. I was driving to work this morning feeling like things were normal. I left late, eyes half open, had my cup of coffee in the car, and got a phone call from one of the sweetest people I know (she calls me every morning like clockwork - oh how I will miss when she no longer goes to work early). Just a normal Wednesday. As we were chatting and I was moving in and out of traffic, I felt it. My eyes began to open a little more than is usual for this time of day as something began creepy crawling up my arm. I panicked, freaked out and shook my arm until whatever-it-was was gone - then proceeded with the conversation. A few minutes later it happened again. This time on my other arm. Whatever-it-was had traveled across the car somehow and was now tip-toeing up my left arm. So naturally, I panicked, freaked out and shook my arm until whatever-it-was was gone - then proceeded with the conversation. Now my eyes were almost all the way open (you have to understand it takes a small army to get me really awake). Then it happened again. But this time whatever-it-was decided to go in for the kill as it snuck DOWN MY FACE. Yes. I said it - Down. My. FACE. This was not a good experience. This time I freaked out, panicked, dropped the phone and shook my head until whatever-it-was was gone - then we proceeded with the conversation. Although now I was completely awake and not a happy camper. I still had not gotten a good look at whatever-it-was so I wasn't even sure how to approach dealing with it. As we continued talking I tried to stay focused but was sure this creature was still in my car somewhere probably about to crawl down my back or across my neck (even now I am shuddering at the thought). Needless to say I am not so sure what the sweetheart on the other end of the line was talking about. In my defense, after three freakouts she knew what was going on and I'm sure would sympathize with my lack of attention to her stories. So I thought up a master plan to search my car when I got to work, find whatever-it-was and destroy it. But then I actually saw it. This time plain and clear. A part white and part transparent creature with eight legs and a small body was spinning a web in and around my steering wheel and now I was mad. At this point the phone call became my last priority. (List goes: 1. Do not get in a car wreck 2. Do not get bit 3. Kill it 4. Phone call) I had to accomplish my master plan earlier than anticipated. Those legs were moving fast and I could tell this spider had one mission - to spin a web all around me until I was wound up tight and carried off to a little spider village. Well, not today little man! I put the phone down, slipped off my shoe, raised it up high and SPLAT! Poor guy didn't even see the red ballet flat coming. I felt a little guilty afterward because I am bigger than it, but it was trying to kill me so I think this falls under the self defense category. I would like to say a sincere apology to little man's family and friends (all of whom probably live in my car and have spent the better part of today scheming their revenge. Oh dear.) And since I was so late for work I didn't even have time to clean off the spider guts that were left behind. Gross. Somehow I am going to have to get all spiders out of my car and make sure they do not come back... That or invest in a fly slapper- now that would've come in handy. So the moral of this story? Next time you see someone driving like a maniac just remember they might be under attack so be patient while they destroy whatever-it-was. They're doing the best they can!

this is a first.

Firsts tend to creep up on me. They somehow arrive without any introduction and suddenly the first is happening, sometimes to quickly to recognize or appreciate it. Other times you know it's coming - like the first day of school. That date is on the calendar for months, but somehow I just don't pay attention to it so still, in my life, Firsts are sneaky. Maybe it's because anticipating change is not something I like to deal with - when it happens, it happens. And that's that - a blessing and a curse, I'm sorry to say.

Recently I have sat and dreamt about starting a blog. It comes in waves as random things around me inspire me to write. I don't have a whole lot of world altering thoughts and I am not sure how much of a habit this will become, but today I decided just to do it. There are wise people, funny people, inspiring life events and lots of things to laugh about and somehow they follow me around so it seems only natural to share them with you all. After all, most of the time there are things to be said - those of you who know me probably know this all too well - I don't promise to have words for every occasion. I don't promise to make you laugh at every post or any post. I am not going to change your world, but I would like to invite you to be a part of mine.
So I guess thanks for coming by :)

I feel it might be helpful for you to know where I'm coming from. I live a relatively quiet life; although I, myself, am not quiet at all. Mama was just commenting this morning that somehow I was born with no "inside voice" - a circumstance that makes me quickly noticed and easily in trouble, even as an adult... I am not sure what the word adult really means, although I am told that now that I have a "real" job and am supporting myself, I am technically one of them. I would beg to differ though. I still would rather play than work, buy a shirt than pay bills, drink coffee and sit and talk for hours than have to do anything but then maybe everyone has a little of that in them forever. Gosh, I hope so...
Simply put, I like to love life and I am excited to share mine with you.